


The Five Elements

by bmlhillenkeene



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 10:25:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4134003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bmlhillenkeene/pseuds/bmlhillenkeene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little fic on the Turtles through the eyes of Mater splinter and the elements they represent. Based off the five elements, Metal, Fire, Water, Earth and Air.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Five Elements

**Author's Note:**

> Just a litte thought I have while rewatching 2k3 and 2k12. I go through phases of who I love the best, starting with Donnie in 2k3 the first time I watched it, then Raph the second time, Raph again in 2k12, and now I have a massive love for Mikey in both versions. I have no idea where this came from, but please enjoy.

My sons remind me often of four of the five elements, Earth, Water, Fire, Air and Metal. Many who know them would compare them to the elements, and while I see the comparisons they make, I feel they are but simplified versions of my sons, comparisons made by those who know them as they are now, not by one who has watched them grow, and has seen them become who they are now, and who they shall become.

Leonardo, my eldest, is like the Metal; tempered like the steel, folded and moulded by my own expectations, and those he has placed upon himself. He is sharp and dangerous when provoked, but warm, as metal is, when touched by those who hold power over him. Like the Metal that is formed over time into the most beautiful of weapons, it required something to use it, to make its existence have meaning. For Leonardo it is his brothers, those he protects and loves.

Raphael, my dear headstrong son is oft compared to the fire, but he is more the Earth. Solid and dependable, always the rock his brothers can stand upon. There is none more immoveable that the Mountain that is Raphael, set in his ways and denying all change. His brothers of course have chipped away at him, and like the earth there is a core of softness to him, of love that can erupt in a torrent that is oft mistaken for anger and hate. There is a danger about him also, the Earth can show it's fury in the most deadly of ways; a slow rumble that grows to such intensity that it can destroy whole cities if it remains unchecked.

Donatello, my intelligent son, is like the Fire, burning bright and fast. Bringing light, warmth and convenience into our lives. His passion for his work flickers brightly, rising high and reaching a heat that always surprises me, constantly shifting and changing as a new fuel is added. Like the Fire he requires constant fuel, his mind was not made to be idle and he will spread far in search of something to keep his flame burning. His anger his like the smouldering embers, slow and not often dangerous, but it is never wise to believe that he is not as dangerous and skilled as his brothers, for the Fire can burn as well as warm, and can take a life as easily as it can save it.

Michelangelo, my youngest is like the Water, the waves that sparkle in the sunlight and lap playfully around one's feet. He is constant and vital to all, for without him I feel there might sometimes be no life in our little family. He erodes the earth and allows the Raphael below the hard crust to show himself, he dampens the fire and allows Donatello the breathing space he sometimes needs when his flame burns too brightly and too quickly and threatens to consume him. He slows the Metal, surrounds it and cushions it, softening the edges and reminding my dear Leonardo that he is not only a leader, a weapon, but a brother and a friend. And like the Water there is a hidden, undiscovered depth to my youngest son, one I fear I shall never see, for there is so much of him that lies beneath his sunlight sparking smile and playful attitude; so much that remains beyond our reach.

As for myself. I would call myself the Air, the guiding force, to ease their way, or halt their tracks when they grow too overconfident.

I feel sorry for those who see my sons in their simplest of ways. But I have watched them grow, I have seen them become the boys they are now, and I shall watch them become the men they will be.


End file.
